


World On Fire

by HyperPluviophile



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Delirium, Fever, Fever Dreams, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Light Angst, Night Terrors, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:43:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperPluviophile/pseuds/HyperPluviophile
Summary: The world is on fire.Or at least it seems to be when Ghoul wakes up gasping from yet another nightmare.





	World On Fire

The world is on fire. 

Or at least it seems to be when Ghoul wakes up gasping from yet another nightmare. 

In his mind he'd seen the desert engulfed in flames; joys and dracs alike swarming him with psychedelic melted faces and bones charred a nauseating impossible purple colour. A world on fire and he was left burning in the center. No friends, no allies, no brothers- Just animated corpses and a red hot fright. 

Even after he's been violently thrown back into the waking world for a moment he has no idea where he is. He lies still, lungs frantically drawing in shallow and shaky breaths as his brain races to catch up with his senses. It takes him several seconds more to realise that in front of him is not fire, but the bright red leather of a diner booth bench.

A small pant of relief pushes past his lips. It was just another night terror. Nothing is on fire. 

Yet even with this realisation Ghoul's world somehow feels like it's still burning. The fabric of his jacket turned-pillow feels like it's scorching the skin on his cheeks. His skin aches as though it's raw. The heat’s inside his body. It's ripping through him and he doesn't quite understand why, even though he feels like he should. 

Three pairs of feet step into the diner, heralded by hushed voices. There's no mistaking that as the sound of his brothers returning, although Ghoul doesn't remember them leaving and he can't imagine why they'd go somewhere without him. The feet draw closer and Ghoul rolls over onto his other side in order to face them. Kobra is peering down at him, flanked by Jet and Party who are stood a little further back. 

“How's he doing?” Party whispers. He's chewing on his lip like he does when he's nervous. 

Kobra reaches out and places the back of his hand gently on Ghoul's cheek. His skin is so mercifully cold that Ghoul wants to whine when Kobra pulls away and shakes his head. “He’s still burning up” 

A few of the more confusing pieces fall into place. Ghoul is ill. Memories of feeling weak and sick yesterday and the day before begin to resurface. His world is on fire because he's in fever. That's why they left him behind. 

“Shit” Jet curses angrily at Kobra's words. While anyone else in any better state would have known that Jet's frustration was the result of concealed worry, part of Ghoul's overheated brain wonders vaguely if Jet is mad at him for getting sick. 

Which is not a thought Ghoul likes. Every killjoy knows that disease can be the end of a gang; medicines cost carbons, and having one weak member- one liability -can make all of you vulnerable. Ghoul wouldn't have got sick if he could've helped it. Jet needs to understand that. 

Frantically he starts attempting to push the blankets away from his torso, just so he can sit up and explain. He's fighting so hard to get upright but his limbs feel like they're made of sponge. At his sudden distress Kobra's face twists into a frown of concern. He reaches forward and brushes some sweaty clumps of hair away from Ghoul's face gently to try and soothe him. 

“He's delirious” Kobra explains over his shoulder as Ghoul reluctantly relaxes back into the bench. Maybe Jet will understand if he apologises for being an inconvenience when he's better. 

“Oh man, Zone flu is the worst” Party bites his lip again and shakes his head sadly. 

“He just needs to rest” Kobra says quickly “Hopefully his fever will come down by itself, but if it doesn't then… We should probably call Show Pony and ask him for help” His face falls a little and he sighs “We should consider which supplies we can live without for the next few days, in case he needs city meds” 

Jet runs a hand through his hair stressfully “If you say so" There are dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn't slept in a while “I'll check the storage room and see what we have” 

“He'll be alright" Kobra says "You guys go eat something, I’ll stay with him until he falls back to sleep again” 

Sleep. At the word Ghoul's limbs suddenly feel weighted with exhaustion. All he's done today is sleep but his body feels like lead. Like fractured metal, shattered and heavy. Every inch of him is craving sleep-  
“Nature's best medicine” As Cherri Cola might call it. 

But… Ghoul shudders as he remembers the fire, real enough in his mind for him to be frightened now. If he goes back to sleep he'll have to face it again, he knows he will. Or maybe confront something worse. Anxiety ripples through his chest. The urge to sleep is still pressing down on him but he's fighting it desperately. He watches as Jet reluctantly places a hand on Party's shoulder and guides him away. 

Kobra glances over in Ghoul's direction. A flicker of confusion crosses his face and he comes back over to gently tug the blankets into place again “Sleep. I'll be right here” he says. 

Now, Ghoul doesn't want to. Really he doesn't. The thought of having to slip back into a world so beyond his control is terrifying. But Ghoul trusts Kobra with his life. And right now Kobra needs him to sleep. A direct order is at least something that Ghoul can understand. 

“Ok” Ghoul's voice is raw from sickness and comes out as barely a whisper. Nevertheless the blonde killjoy smiles softly at him; a genuine smile, warm and comforting, not one you see often in the desert. 

Ghoul closes his eyes against the scorching world and lets go. He might not be able to tell the difference between what's real and what isn't, what's fire and what's leather, but Ghoul does know that Kobra will keep his word. And when the fever dreams ultimately return he won't have to face them alone. 

This is the thought Ghoul holds onto as he slips into a temporary but blissfully cool sleep. 

 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this :) I also apologise if there are any spelling or grammatical errors.


End file.
